Tel père, tel fils
by Emerald-Shadow-Knight
Summary: Canada, with no other choice, runs to someone he hopes will take him in... Human names used. Other warnings/notes inside.
1. Prologue

I'm hoping to get over my writer's block on my other story soon. Remember, when I get an idea, it won't go away until I type it onto something. That just seems to be the way it works for me. As always, I'll try to work on both at the same time.

Warnings for whole story: possible mpreg, implied or past Rus/Can, France likely out of character.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.

* * *

Maybe he should've waited for a night when it _wasn't _downpouring. But he was already outside, so there was no reason to go back in.

As Matthew Williams looked at the dark house, he looked back at the time he spent there. The reason he was even living there in the first place now escaped him. One thing was for sure though; it was utter hell.

All he ever really heard from Ivan was 'Mattie this' and 'Mattie that'. Whenever the Russian called for him, it was usually to get him some vodka, or another pillow for his bed. This went on every day. Most of the time, that's all it was.

Sometimes, though, the vodka lover's requests became rather...suggestive. Whether he was drunk or not, the maple boy was expected to get under the sheets with him at times like that.

Well, no more. Matthew was leaving this place for good. If he was lucky, Ivan wouldn't come after him. He was, after all, a rather forgettable person.

Taking one last look at the house, he turned around. Kumajiro, who was in his arms, was sound asleep. Making sure the little bear was protected from the rain, he took a deep breath and took off.

...

The streets were nearly empty at this time of night. Save for a few people getting home or just desperate to get out of the rain, Matthew was alone.

He had gotten a fair distance from Ivan's house when he finally stopped to rest. When he left, he realized he didn't know where he could go.

He couldn't stay at a hotel here in town. The poor thing had no money, and he likely wouldn't be allowed in if he had Kumajiro with him. With that out of the question, he weighed his remaining options. He could stay with someone, but who?

Should he stay with his friend Gilbert? No. He lived with his younger brother. What about his own brother, Alfred? Probably not. His whale and that alien might not want him there.

Kumajiro began stirring in Matthew's arms. When his little eyes opened, he turned his head at his master and asked his usual, "who are you?"

"I'm Canada," he said. No sooner than he had said it, though, he felt a wave of nausea come over him. Setting the polar bear down onto the ground, he ran to the nearest trash can and vomited into it.

He hadn't been feeling well for the past couple of days. He almost didn't leave because of it, really. Standing in the rain was not helping, either. He and Kumajiro had to find a place to stay as soon as possible.

But without Gilbert and Alfred, Matthew was left with one other person he could stay with. Hopefully he was up at this time, though it didn't seem likely...

Taking his furry little friend into his arms again, the quiet nation set off for his house.

He knew the way well. He had visited a few times when he was with Ivan, but he hadn't been there for a while. Even if who he wanted was awake, would he take Matthew in?

Well, he wouldn't know unless he tried. When he finally saw the house, his pace picked up until he reached the door. When he got there, he immediately started banging on the door, hoping he could be heard.

...

**Wham wham wham!**

Now who could that be at _this_ forbidding hour? Francis Bonnefoy was having a hard time sleeping on this particular night. That was the reason he heard someone at the door.

Of course, now he was annoyed that he was being visited at this time of night. That, and now he had to put a robe on. As he descended the stairs, grumbling the whole way.

"_Sacre bleu_, I thought I told him not to bother me until next week...Why is he so intent on bothering me with such things..."

As he tried to look through the eyehole, Francis was having a hard time making out the figure at the door. It was too dark and rainy to see who it was.

The Frenchman put his hand onto the doorknob, turning it slowly. When he opened it, he was met almost immediately with someone falling headfirst into him. He could feel a mix of wet hair and fur on his chest.

"Agh...! Mathieu? What are you...?"

Francis could hear Matthew panting and shaking. The Canadian was unable to calm down.

"Mathieu! _Mon cher_, what happened?"

"I...I..." Matthew tried to answer him as best he could, but he could not get the words out. He simply looked up and stared right into the older man's eyes.

"Papa...I couldn't...I didn't want to..." The poor guy couldn't form proper sentences. Even so, Francis seemed to understand what he was trying to say. It wasn't like he didn't know where Matthew was all this time.

"Shhh...It's all right, Mathieu." Francis pulled away a bit, then took Matthew's little polar bear from his arms. "I'll find something to dry the two of you off with." With that, he started upstairs.

Matthew nodded, and with shaking hands, tried to remove his sopping wet coat. He was able to manage it, after some difficulty. When he took it off, he threw it somewhere by the door, and followed after him.

* * *

So... Well...

I'm not sure what to say here, now. I suppose that like many of my prologues, it starts out rough and maybe a bit choppy.

That's all I really have to say, really.

-lyudesshadow


	2. la bonne décision

I forgot to add something last chapter. Romance-wise, this is not a Franada story.

Disclaimer: If I owned Hetalia, well...I don't. I'm sorry.

* * *

"Oh, come now. It is merely fish. It will not kill you." Why did Matthew have a pet polar bear again? Francis was getting a bit annoyed with it, right now. Its fur hadn't quite dried yet, so it stood there in his kitchen, a giant frizzy poof ball refusing to eat.

As it sniffed and pawed at its food, Francis left the kitchen to go check on Matthew. After he had gotten his own hair dried, the Canadian decided to lay down for a while. As the Frenchman looked into his room, he saw that he was already sound asleep, even snoring a little.

Matthew had started to tell him when he was rubbing his hair down. As Francis was working on Kumajiro's fur, he had calmed down enough to tell the whole story.

From what the elder man heard, things happened to Matthew when he lived with Ivan. Nasty things. If he didn't follow orders, Ivan was sure to hurt him in some way. The maple child had essentially been ordered around like a mere servant.

And there were other...orders he had to follow, but Matthew didn't need to elaborate there. Francis had a pretty good idea as to what they were.

Long story short, Matthew was bossed around, violated, and punished. And he had enough. And now, as he watched him snooze away, Francis couldn't help but feel a little guilty. To think, his little Mathieu was subject to that kind of cruelty...

Walking over to him, the Frenchman bent down by the side of the bed. He lifted one hand up to gently smooth out Matthew's hair.

"Oh, _mon enfant,_" he said quietly, "If I knew, I would've done something..." He really wasn't sure what he could do, given this was Ivan, but that wasn't supposed to matter, was it?

The maple boy didn't stir. He simply went on sleeping. It was like that for a little while, until Francis had the sense to stand back up. He went back to the door, very slowly. He was about to go out to check on the bear when he heard a whisper. Looking back, he saw Matthew's eyes were open.

"Papa..." the boy whispered again. Walking back, Francis moved down so he was eye-to-eye with him.

"Shhh...don't worry, Mathieu. You don't ever have to go back there. I promise."

"R-really?"

Francis nodded. "_Oui. _I swear. You don't have to go back, and he won't come after you. If he does... well, he'll have to go through me."

Matthew's lips trembled. His voice was breaking again as he tried to speak.

"He...He took everything, Papa. Everything I had...everything I brought with me...he took it. He...he...!"

Seeing his child cry again made Francis feel even worse.

"It's all right. Don't worry. It'll get better, _mon cher_." Francis couldn't actually guarantee that, but it was better than not saying anything at all. He moved his hand to wipe away his child's tears.

"And don't you worry. No matter how long it takes, I will be with you every step of the way." The two could hear Kumajiro walk in, and he stood beside the Frenchman before being picked up and set next to his master.

As Matthew felt his papa's hand on his face, he felt a warm feeling inside of him. Strangely enough, the polar bear's damp fur was making it grow. Deep down, the boy knew that he made the right decision. Francis was willing to take him in, and for the first time that day, he was truly happy.

As he felt himself get sleepy again, the maple child put a smile on his face, and before drifting off again, he heard his papa whisper to him,

_"__de doux rêves, mon cher enfant."_

* * *

It's a rather short chapter, but I was hoping to carry over more content into the next one. Well, that, and I'm working on my other story.

I'll tell you now, though, the other story will soon have a really bad chapter. Bad as in it's not written very well. I'm warning you now, in case any of you read it.

-lyudesshadow


	3. Promesse

...I forgot what to say here... Oh, right.

If I owned Hetalia, Canada would be noticed more often.

* * *

The next morning, Matthew woke up to Kumajiro snoring beside him. Looking out the window, he saw the sun shining in, a stark contrast to last night.

Sighing, he reluctantly got up out of bed, taking great care not to disturb the sleeping polar bear. He looked around the room he had been in. If he remembered correctly, this used to be his room, from when he was little to until he went with Ivan.

The maple child walked over to his old dresser, and was amazed that there were clothes in them. Maybe Francis had put them in there while he was sleeping last night. The clothes he picked out still had the faint smell of laundry detergent on them.

Matthew was still pulling the shirt down when he walked into the hallway. The laundry scent was joined by the smell of breakfast downstairs. Normally, he would have been able to tolerate that kind of mixture. Lately though, anything like that triggered a bad case of nausea.

Thankfully, he was able to get into the bathroom in time to hit the toilet. It was almost painful to feel it come up, like his throat was on fire. And just when he thought he was done, he felt it rising again, and the process repeated itself.

Then, he finally was finished. He brushed his teeth to get the horrible taste out, then went downstairs to the kitchen. As soon as he walked in, he saw Francis at the stove, humming and cooking. Looking at the table, he saw butter and maple syrup.

When the Frenchman noticed his child (which actually took a while) he smiled and set a plate of pancakes down onto the table.

"Ah, Mathieu," he said as he kissed the boy's forehead, _"comment vous sentez-vous ce matin?"_

_"Je vais bien, _Papa," he answered. "Better than last night."

"That's good." Matthew watched as Francis set out plates for the both of them, then sat down to one side of the table. As he forked one of the pancakes and stuck it onto his own plate, Francis started to speak.

"You know Mathieu, I have to go to the store later today. I used up all my milk, and I need to get more. Care to come along?"

It was rather a rather odd thing to ask. Matthew knew that the two of them couldn't just forget about last night. He decided to play along, though. He looked up and nodded, since he had his mouth full.

...

"Mathieu! Are you ready to go?"

After breakfast was over and done with, and all the dishes were washed, Matthew went upstairs to wash his face and brush his hair. He came back down when he heard Francis calling for him.

"_Oui, _Papa. I'm ready." The Canadian took his coat from the Frenchman and put it on, making sure he was wearing it correctly.

"Be good, okay, Kumaitachi?" He said to the little bear, who was sitting on the bottom of the stairs. Never mind the fact he got the name wrong. He just didn't want to see a mess in the house when they got back.

The two barely spoke as they walked the short distance to town. There was commenting on the cold but nice weather, but little else. The whole time, Matt was looking around, in case Ivan was in town. He didn't want the man to see him.

"I won't be long, _mon cheri. _I promise," Francis said when they got to their destination.

"That's all right. I was going to look around anyway. Which reminds me, do you have any money I can borrow?" Matthew watched him nod and take out some extra cash from his wallet, which was then given to him. They then separated and went opposite directions.

The Canadian was rather nervous when he got there. The pressure on him was so bad, it felt like he was about to explode. He was in the right section, of course. He just wished there weren't so many people around.

Lately Matthew had felt that his recent vomiting was not from an illness. If he were sick, he would have felt better by now. The nausea was still there, and there were some other things that went with it.

Reaching a shaky hand towards the products, he grabbed the first one he saw and went back towards the registers. The checkout person looked at him with a questioning look. Matthew could only respond with a sheepish smile and bright red face.

After what he needed was purchased, the maple child stuck it into his pocket, then went to the entrance to wait for Francis.

"Are you ready to go home, Mathieu?" He heard the Frenchman's voice not long after he sat down onto a bench. When he looked up and saw his papa's smiling face, he simply nodded. Making sure the thing he needed was hidden from view, he got up and left with the Frenchman.

...

Francis had noticed that Matthew had gone upstairs almost as soon as they got home. He figured that the boy wanted to put his coat in his room for safekeeping. When he didn't come back down right away, the older man got worried. After putting away his purchases, he went up to see what the holdup was.

"Mathieu? Mathieu, are you all right?" He saw the bathroom door was almost closed, and the light was on. He gently opened it all the way and saw Matthew kneeling on the floor, his back turned to him.

"I got the three minute one," Francis heard him say as he turned his head to look at him. What was he talking about, and why did it take three minutes?

Then he saw the box on the table. Picking it up and looking it over, he saw it was for a pregnancy test. He was looking at Matthew's face, but it was turned away again. The Frenchman kneeled down next to him and waited with him.

"Mathieu..." he whispered. "You really think you're..." the boy didn't say a word. He just stared at the clock. After what seemed an eternity, he looked back at the plastic stick in his hand. The results made him tear up.

The test showed two pink lines, indicating the truth. Matthew Williams was with child.

Francis wrapped his arms around the crying boy. He knew that the Canadian was overwhelmed with this. There was also the fact that there was only one person who could be the father.

"Papa...I...I'm scared. I'm having his baby, and..."

"Shhh," the Frenchman tried to comfort him as best as he could. "Remember what I told you. I would be here for you, no matter what."

"Y-yes...I remember..." Not wanting his papa to let go, Matthew put his own arms around him and snuggled into his chest.

"Good." Francis put a hand on his child's stomach, which had yet to begin showing. It was hard to believe that there was a little one in there, but there was. As he gently rubbed it, he promised himself something.

He promised himself that no matter what, he would protect his grandchild as best as he could. Especially from its psychotic father, who he hoped it would never meet. Promised himself that he would provide for all three.

So many things to promise. And so little time to promise them all.

* * *

I suppose this chapter helps balance out the length of last one. The one before this one seemed a bit short.

Well, I'm not sure what to say except to review?

-lyudesshadow


	4. temps de collage

I finally got that other chapter up.

I do not own Hetalia.

* * *

It had been about a week since Francis and Matthew found out that Matthew was having a baby. After finding out, Francis scheduled a doctor's appointment to see what exactly was going on inside his child's stomach.

On this particular morning, Matthew had gotten up before his father. Now standing at the mirror in the bathroom, he took in his appearance.

It wasn't like anything was really going to change. He would still have blue eyes. He'd still wear glasses. His hair was still going to be dark blond.

One thing that would change, though, was that he was going to get big. At some point, he probably wouldn't be able to get up by himself.

He was lucky to have Francis. He didn't know if the others would take him in. They might not have even known he was there. He also didn't know if he could raise a child by himself. Nobody could, really.

The Canadian had just finished washing his face when he heard the Frenchman wandering about outside. He probably needed to use the bathroom, too. He turned to look when the door creaked open.

Matthew silently said thank you to Francis. At least the elder man had the decency to put shorts on around him.

"Are you feeling all right, Mathieu?" the boy nodded. He still felt nauseous, but it wasn't too bad.

"You know the appointment is today, right?" Hearing the word appointment, Matthew's hand slowly went to his stomach. He was starting to show a little, but not too much. He wasn't too sure how far along he was, but hopefully he'd find that out.

"I know, Papa. I'm getting ready now." The maple child could feel a hand clasp onto his shoulder, and saw the other pick up a hairbrush.

"Well, at least let me help you, _mon cher." _Matthew watched in the mirror as Francis straightened out the rest of the snarls. It amazed him how intently he worked. The Frenchman stared down the whole time, not looking up once. He did talk as he worked, though.

"_Mon dieu_, it's as if your hair has a mind of its own, Mathieu." The boy almost wanted to tell him that Kumajiro's fur was worse. As soon as Francis was finished, he put a hand on his child's hair and smoothed it over.

"I need a haircut, don't I, Papa?" It had grown a fair amount in the time he was gone. He had wanted to cut it for some time now, but he never could.

"That is really up to you. I don't mind either way." Both of them were smiling when he finished talking, though. It felt just like old times.

...

Francis had a hell of a time trying to explain things to the doctor, when he was setting up an appointment. But that was all over and done with, so now parent and child were in the hospital, waiting for the doctor to arrive.

Matthew was already laying on the table, looking at all of the equipment, which was probably fragile and very expensive. He could feel Francis squeezing his hand, and he looked down and squeezed back.

The maple boy saw his clothes neatly stacked on a nearby table. He didn't understand why he had to change into a hospital outfit, since he wasn't staying. Still, it seemed best not to question the medical protocol.

"It shouldn't be too long, Mathieu." He stuck a finger into his child's hair and started to twirl it around.

Matthew himself was about to complain about how bad he needed to use the bathroom, when the doctor came in and asked about the boy's information.

After that was finished, then came the ultrasound. Both parent and child watched intently as the screen came alive. Francis seemed to immediately notice what was there.

His child, on the other hand, seemed to be having trouble.

"Papa, I don't see it. I don't see the baby." He bit his lip and looked like he was about to cry. Francis tried to comfort him and help him out.

"Well, all right." Matthew saw him lean over a little and point at a certain part of the screen, where it had a sort of white spot in the center. Said white spot was surrounded by a lot of black. "Do you see this right here? This little part?"

"Yes," the maple child said quietly. Francis grinned, like he knew a very special secret.

"_Mon cher," _he said as he turned his head to look at him, "that's it." Matthew was quiet for a little bit, then he himself started to smile.

"That's it," he said, a little louder now. "That's my baby."

Both of them were happy. Matthew saw his baby for the first time, and Francis knew that in a few months time, that 'white spot' on the screen would soon be his grandchild.

...

After they had returned home, Matthew took a seat in the living room and waited for Francis to start dinner. Flopping onto his back, he sat back up when he realized that probably wasn't a good idea.

He got himself comfortable and started thinking.

The maple child knew it was rather early, but he thought about how he would explain things to his child. When it was old enough, it would ask where its father was. And what was Matthew going to say? That Ivan couldn't bother to be around, and it was better he wasn't?

As he began to trace gentle circles on his stomach, the boy reassured himself. Crazy dad or not, they would be fine. Francis had his faults, but he usually reserved that side for people like Arthur, or anyone who he felt like flirting with.

He was sure they were fine. Given the way Francis lived, the only problem Matthew might have was keeping the kid from being spoiled.

As the Frenchman came in with some drinks, he began talking, and Matthew didn't hear him at first. He kept his mind occupied with how far along he was.

The doctor said seven weeks. The maple boy had been with child for seven weeks now. His due date would not be for a few months, but he knew it could go quick. It always did.

"...and he may come for a while...Mathieu? Are you listening?" When Francis noticed his child hadn't really heard a word he said, he tried to get his attention.

"Hmm? Oh, sorry, Papa. What were you talking about?"

"I was merely saying that Arthur may come for a visit. Clearly I've something I haven't paid him for a while. I'm simply telling you now, so you know."

"Oh..." Matthew's eyes got a little wider as he looked. "All right."

"Good! Now then..." The two began to talk about their family and friends, and Matthew felt more at ease now.

Because really, as good natured as he was, he didn't mind his father rattling on about his buddies.

* * *

I'm having a hard time deciding on what gender to make the baby. I suppose if anyone has a preference, tell me, all right?

-lyudesshadow


	5. compliqué

To those who reviewed: So from what I gather, I should make the child a boy? Yes, the two of them taking care of a little girl would be cute, and yet I see a lot of girls being born in these types of stories myself.

I'm still not sure, really.

Disclaimer: Still don't own Hetalia.

* * *

The next day, Matthew woke to loud noises downstairs. He could recognize Francis, and the other one sounded like...Arthur? So he did come for a so-called 'visit'.

As he sat up in bed, he squinted at the clock. 8:30. Wasn't that a little early to stop by? It seemed to be important if the Englishman was here this early.

_"Now listen here, Frog! I've tried to be patient, but you owe me! You think I'm bloody going to let you off easy?" _The volume of Arthur's voice nearly made Matthew flinch. He wondered how his papa felt, being the direct receiver of that voice.

Slowly, the maple child got up and checked. As expected, it got louder the more he approached.

"_Arthur, I have told you. I will pay you back as soon as I can..."_

_"No! Excuses, excuses! That's all I've been hearing from you! I've had enough..." _Matthew quietly walked down the stairs, and he was able to see the two of them arguing.

Arthur's back was turned to him, and Francis himself had a distraught face. This was clearly not the first time he'd been through this.

When the Frenchman's eyes caught him at the bottom of the stairs, his face remained unchanged. It seemed, though, like he was apologizing to Matthew for seeing this.

"Don't you look away from me, you wine bastard!" Arthur himself turned to look, to see what was so interesting.

"Oh, what the bloody hell is Alfred doing here?" Did the maple child and his brother look that much alike?

Francis stood up and walked to him. "First of all, you large-browed fool...It is Mathieu," he said as he got closer, "and second, he is here because he has nowhere else to go. Is my situation so bad that I can't help my own child?"

The Englishman simply scowled more. "You mean to tell me you can't pay me, but you can take someone in? You expect me to believe you?"

The Canadian felt now would be a good time to say something.

"Would you rather I kept living with Ivan?" He said in his quiet voice. He saw Arthur's eyes widen a bit. Apparently, Francis never told him where the boy was all this time.

"Wait...you were staying with...with _him_? Since when? And why?" That was something for them to know, and Matthew to find out.

"...I don't remember, Arthur." His shabby treatment was the reason he left, though.

Francis and Matthew both saw Arthur's expression return to its initial scowl. He looked up at the Frenchman again.

"Oh, fine! I'll give you more time, but only because of him! Don't think I'll forget, Frog." He made his way past them and left the house, making sure to slam the door on the way out.

...

"I'm so sorry you had to watch that, Mathieu," Francis said as the two settled down a bit from the little incident.

"Papa, what did he come here for?" The maple child was curious as to what the Englishman wanted with his papa. The Frenchman cringed, and seemed to have a bit of a hard time explaining.

"Well, he and I... apparently I owe him money for something. I don't know why he's so bent on getting it now. I don't even remember what it was now I have to pay him for."

Matthew watched as Francis set out plates and silverware for breakfast. He couldn't help but think he had a similar problem. He didn't know why he was living with Ivan.

"Is it a lot of money, Papa?"

The Frenchman stalled, like he had to remember how much it was. "I suppose so, if he's so desperate to get it."

"Does this mean I shouldn't be here?" Almost as soon as Matthew asked the question, he regretted it. Francis nearly dropped what he was holding and went to his child's side.

"_Mon cher_! Where would you get an idea like that? Of course you should be here!"

"But..." Matthew cleared his throat before he continued. "If you're already having problems, then I'm not helping things by staying."

"Oh, _non... non non non..._ I would rather have money problems than have my child be with no place to live." As he wrapped his arms around the boy, Francis kept going. "I wouldn't be able to live with myself if something happened to you."

Matthew felt the Frenchman's hand make its way down to his stomach.

"It's not that much of a problem. I may need to take another job in town, but I'm sure I'll get it to him somehow." He buried his face into his child's hair. "You don't need to worry."

The maple boy couldn't help but do so, however. He was happy that Francis wanted him to stay, but he didn't want to jeopardize the living conditions.

However, he knew if he tried to say something, his papa would remind him about it again. He let a smile come to his lips, and put his own arms around the older man.

"_Je t'aime tellement, _Papa."

"O_ui. Je t'aime aussi, _Mathieu."

* * *

It's a bit of a short chapter, and left off at a weird point, but I didn't know what else to put in.

And I'm still taking gender suggestions.

-lyudesshadow


	6. aigre et doux rêves

It's getting hard to figure out how to make the story keep going. I don't want to use too many time skips, and I need to resolve some issues.

...I do not own Hetalia.

* * *

That night, Matthew was laying wide awake in bed. Kumajiro had already fallen asleep, and so had Francis. And yet, there he was, staring up at the ceiling.

The maple boy forced himself to close his eyes and try as well as he could. Sleep didn't come easy, though, and when it did, it wasn't very pleasant.

...

_When Matthew opened his eyes again, he could've sworn he was somewhere else. Nothing looked familiar. Trembling, he slowly got up and surveyed the area. _

_What he saw shocked him. Everything was either torn apart or in flames. The maple child had to cover his mouth and nose so he didn't breathe the smoke. He was pretty sure he was in town. Or at least, what was left of it. _

_"Hello? Is anyone there?" Receiving only silence as a response, he kept looking. No matter how much he searched, though, there weren't any signs of life. _

_After some time and finding no one, Matthew saw something he should have never seen. He knew it wasn't an animal. Most animals didn't wear clothes. _

_The person was facing away from him, in a pool of blood. The once yellow hair had been stained red. When Matthew got a better look, he saw the person's face. _

_The face was that of his papa's. Now the older man's face was staring back at him. His eyes were dull and lifeless, and his mouth was slightly open. _

_Surely his death was sprung at him without warning? Matthew was about to scream in terror at seeing Francis' corpse, when he thought he heard something. __The noise was behind him, and he was afraid to turn around. He had heard it before, and it sent chills down his spine. _

_He swallowed, and willed himself to turn his head. He heard it again._

_"Kolkolkolkol..." He saw him. Matthew was looking up into the face of Ivan Braginski. The look of him alone caused the maple child to break out into a sweat._

_He still looked like the same old Ivan, with his beige coat and everything. The only difference was he was covered in blood. His signature water pipe was covered with it, too._

_Now Matthew was too afraid to scream. The Russian's face had a sadistic look upon it, and he slowly approached the Canadian._

_"You think you could run from me forever, da?" His grip around the pipe tightened. Only he could have killed Francis, and now he was going to do the same to Matthew. _

_The vodka lover raised his arm, and continued chanting. The boy knew this was the end. There was no place to hide now..._

_..._

Francis had been fast asleep for a while when he heard the screaming. He was up immediately the instant it met his ears. He had never heard Matthew scream like that. If the Frenchman didn't know better, he would've thought the boy was being murdered.

"Mathieu! What is it?" He was at the room as quickly as he could be. Sure enough, Matthew was awake, shrieking his head off.

When he was at the side of the bed, Francis comforted his child as best as he could.

"Mathieu... Mathieu, did you have a bad dream?" Matthew stopped screaming as soon as he realized his papa was there, and just started to cry as he nodded.

"Uh-huh...everything was destroyed, you were dead, and **he** was there..." Even with a hasty explanation, Francis concluded it was a nightmare involving Ivan.

"Shhh...It's all right now, _mon chou. _It's over. He's not here, I'm alive...It was a bad dream. That was all."

"I-I know..." Matthew was trying to calm himself down as he spoke.

"It's all right, don't cry..." The older man whispered in a mixture of English and French until Matthew calmed down. The maple child took a look at his papa, and then just started to cry a little again.

"Hm? What is it now, Mathieu?" Matthew raised a finger to point out the problem.

"You...you're not wearing anything."

Francis looked down, and saw that indeed, he was completely unclothed.

"Sorry, I came here in a rush." He brushed Matthew's hair away and kept talking. "I'll tell you what. Let me go and put something on, and I'll stay with you tonight. Does that sound all right to you?"

"O-okay, Papa," the boy said in as calm a voice as he could. With that, Matthew felt Francis leave his side, but only briefly. When he felt the bed shift again, he felt the older man's arms gently fall on him.

"It is just like old times, _non?" _Matthew nodded and smiled a bit. As the blankets came up on the both of them more, Francis kept talking.

"I remember when you were little. Whenever you had a bad dream, or maybe it was a nasty storm outside...you would always run to my room and climb into my bed."

"And you never kicked me out. Not once," the maple child whispered.

"That's right. I never did." To think the Frenchman remembered those sweet memories, even now. He went on, describing other nice times he had stored in his mind, until he heard quiet snores that didn't come from the polar bear.

"Mathieu?" He looked and saw that Matthew's eyes were closed. He couldn't help but think it was so cute to see his child that way. And in a few months, the Canadian might get a chance with his own child.

"Good night, Mathieu."

* * *

This is really nothing more than a sort of filler chapter. I had an urge to write this while I was thinking up what to write next.

-lyudesshadow


	7. Garder le contact

To the anonymous reviewer: I'm happy for that. I'm glad you like it. :)

So as for baby gender, unless I'm mistaken, it looks about 50/50 here.

And to let all of you know, this chapter went forward a couple of weeks. I'm probably stating it in the chapter, but I'm saying it here, anyway, too.

Well, not an owner of Hetalia.

* * *

"Really, _ours blanc, _I know you had to go, but did you have to do it on the rug?"

Francis couldn't believe what the polar bear had done this time. He knew the animal had to use the bathroom, but couldn't it have chosen a different place? He grumbled and scolded as he washed the stain off the carpet. The furry culprit himself just sat there and watched innocently. Sometimes, the Frenchman felt the bear didn't like him.

As he scrubbed harder, he heard Matthew coming down the stairs.

"Oh, what did Kumahana do now?" The maple child asked when he got into the room. It was amazing how quickly he picked up on what the situation looked like. Francis straightened his back up and put his hands on his hips.

"It would seem that your little friend didn't know the difference between a rug and the grass outside." The elder man said as he stood up. "That, or he couldn't hold it in."

"Oh, no..." Matthew walked over and gently picked Kumajiro up. As he did, Francis couldn't help but look at his child's stomach. He had to have been about twelve weeks at this point, maybe thirteen.

However long it was, he was definitely starting to show now. His baby bulge made itself known as he walked over to Francis.

"Now you apologize to Papa for what you did." The bear looked up at him with its little eyes and said a quick, if not unwilling, 'sorry'. Francis only sighed and patted it on the head.

"Well, I suppose it isn't that bad." The Frenchman smoothed its fur out and looked at his child. "Have you ever gotten a hold of the others yet?" He asked, trying to change the subject.

Matthew shook his head. "I tried to call Gilbert, but I either get the answering machine, or his younger brother picks up."

"Do you think he doesn't live there, anymore, Mathieu?"

Matthew looked down at Kumajiro, who was starting to squirm in his arms. "I'm not sure."

"All right," Francis said as he nodded slowly, "Well, what about Alfred?" He took the polar bear from Matthew's arms and set it down. Both of them watched as it skittered away almost immediately.

"He has a whale and that alien. I don't think he has any room for me with them."

Matthew saw his father make a concerned look. "So you think your own brother can't take you in...?"

"No. I don't want to be a problem for him." There he went again, thinking he was a burden to everyone around him. Francis put a hand on Matthew's shoulder and gently pulled him close.

"Now, we've been through this, Mathieu. You're not burdening anyone. You wouldn't bother Alfred, or Gilbert..."

"What about you?"

"Especially not me." Francis would have continued talking, were it not for Kumajiro coming back into the room. The bear had brought what looked like a shirt with it, carrying it in his mouth. Before either of them could ask, he threw the fabric over the wet spot on the carpet.

"There," he said as he looked at his deed, then went off again.

"Um..." Matthew was confused at why Kumajiro would do that, unless the polar bear wanted to help somehow. "Oh, Kumajiro..."

They waited a while before Francis spoke again.

"Just to ask, Mathieu...what will you do when the child grows up?"

The maple boy looked away as he answered. "I'm not sure. It's a bit early to think about that now, I feel. I don't want to look that far ahead until the baby's born."

"Ahhh, I see," the Frenchman said. When Kumajiro came back in once more, he snatched up the little polar bear and looked it right in the eyes. "And what do you think you're doing, _ours blanc?_"

"Helping," was the answer he received. Francis didn't know what to say to that. Now that he thought about it, it did seem like a sort of method to cover up the wet spot.

"All right," he said for lack of any other response. It seemed weird that the animal wanted to fix its mistake, but then again, Kumajiro wasn't like the other polar bears.

Matthew didn't say anything, but he was drawing connections in his head, for some reason. He couldn't help but realize something about what Kumajiro was doing, or who he reminded him of.

The main differences were that Francis wasn't a polar bear, and he certainly didn't take a leak on the rug.

...

"Papa, do I really need to use one?" After Francis and Matthew had Kumajiro's little 'accident' cleared up, Francis brought up the topic of communication. He told the maple child that he would have to be gone from the house more often.

In other words, he was giving the boy a cell phone to use for emergencies, or at least, what he classified as emergencies.

"I simply want to make sure we can contact each other just in case, Mathieu," he said as he handed it to his child, who reluctantly took it. "And remember, whether you've hurt yourself or you just want something from the store, and I'm not home, just call me, all right?"

Matthew stared at the device given to him. He was surprised Francis could even afford it, given what his financial situation appeared to be right now. It seemed best not to answer questions, though.

"All right, Papa."

* * *

...Yeah, I wasn't too sure what to put in this chapter, really. I might use more time skips in the story, since I don't want this story to drag.

Maybe if I get a decisive result, I'll reveal the baby's gender next chapter, all right?

-lyudesshadow


	8. Mémoire

Gah! Six months? I'm slow...

I think this chapter will be mostly in flashback, with a little told in present day here and there.

Note: Don't own Hetalia.

* * *

_It looked like another rainy night. Francis watched as it fell down from the sky, almost as if it was upset. _

_Normally, rain was soothing, but tonight just wasn't a good night to sleep. The restless Frenchman turned on his side, then again. Nothing felt good to him. Eventually, he gave up sleeping and just decided to wander the house. _

_It was odd, given it was only during the fall, but given how cold it was, it may as well have been winter. The house was dark, so Francis stumbled a couple of times. _

_"Ahh! _Sacre bleu, _where's the lamp?" He said as he smacked his foot against a chair in what he hoped was the living room. _

_When he finally found a light and turned it on, the room instantly brightened. Breathing a sigh of relief, he sat down and made himself comfortable, or at least as comfortable as possible. Turning his head, he resumed watching the relentless downpour going on outside.  
_

_"Something tells me there's going to be a lot of puddles tomorrow..." He said to himself. He wasn't expecting someone to respond. _

_"Can I wear my boots and jump in them, then, Papa?" The voice was small, but hearing it made Francis jump a bit. He turned to look at the doorway, and saw Matthew standing there. His little Matthew. He looked so innocent, standing there with his blanket in hand. The little boy dragged it across the floor as he made his way towards his father._

_"Mathieu, what are you doing up?" Francis said as he picked Matthew up and set him in his lap. "Could you not sleep, either?"_

_Matthew shook his head. "Don't like the noise." The Frenchman smiled at him and then looked back at the window._

_"I suppose I don't like it, either, tonight." Both of them stared out the window now, watching the rain fall._

_..._

"Papa?"

Francis was staring out the window today. It was raining again, just like that night. He was so out of it, he didn't hear himself being called. He was shaken to his senses by a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Papa!" The voice called again. The Frenchman turned to his child, who was now rubbing his growing stomach, which was bigger than ever.

"_Oui, _Mathieu?" Francis said as he snapped out of it. "You needed something?"

Matthew held up the phone to him. "It's Arthur." There was no need to say so. Francis could hear the Englishman yelling on the other end of the receiver. He slowly took it and held it a safe distance from his ear.

"Calm down, Arthur. I can hear you just fine," he said when the screaming subsided.

"You'd better! I'm not going to repeat myself, Frog!" The rest of that conversation was simply the Frenchman hearing the questions being thrown at him. He confirmed or denied them accordingly.

...

As Francis was talking to Arthur, Matthew went back to looking around the room he was in. It amazed him how much his papa kept over the years. There were pictures of him as a baby, when he was growing up, all kinds of frozen moments.

When he got to the last picture, he looked at the date. He realized it was the day before he left to live with Ivan...

* * *

_"Mathieu, why must you go?"_

_Francis had a distraught look upon his face. He didn't understand why his own child had to take up residence with...**him. **_

_"I...I'm not sure, Papa. I guess if not me, then he might want someone else. I suppose I'm that expendable."_

_"You are not expendable to me! You're my child!" The Frenchman knew, however, that no amount of protesting would change Matthew's mind._

_Matthew looked at him, holding the clothes he was about to pack. "Sorry, Papa," he said as he looked down again. Kumajiro came in and started to rub against his master's leg, like he was a dog. _

_"Kumajiro's coming with me, so don't worry." That didn't help. A little polar bear wasn't exactly good protection from a drunken psychopath. "He'll give me someone to talk to, at least," Matthew said as he bent down to scratch the bear's head. _

_In the end, Francis could only make the preparations he had to for his child leaving. He at least wanted a photo taken with both of them. It was just in case Matthew went missing, and he needed a reference picture._

* * *

"Papa..." Matthew whispered to himself in the room. Kumajiro was once again burying himself into boxes, and occasionally popping out of them like a furry jack-in-the-box. For once, the maple child didn't really pay him a lot of mind. Putting the picture back, the boy continued to mull it over.

"You really didn't think I was expendable?"

"_Non..._ I didn't, Matthieu," the voice behind him said. Matthew was so startled, he literally jumped in shock. He turned to look and saw his father standing there in the doorway. He composed himself and stood back up to walk to him.

"Papa...how long have you been standing there?" His heart was still pounding like crazy.

"Not too long, _cher. _But I didn't think that about you back then. I still don't." When Francis was close enough, he reached out and put a hand on Matthew's stomach, feeling the unborn child move around.

"And I won't think it about the baby, either." The Frenchman could feel the occasional kick from within. "Now this isn't a job anyone should do alone..."

Matthew watched as his papa started to clean up the attic in one spot. He then followed suit, glad that now he could get the job done faster.

* * *

I really have no excuse for my overdue absence, other than excessive laziness. I'll try to wrap the story up soon.

I also have a poll up for the baby's gender, since I somehow am still unsure about it. Check it out?

-lyudesshadow


	9. grabuge

Okay, I actually wrote this chapter a long time ago, so if it doesn't quite fit in with the rest of the story that well, I apologize.

And for the baby gender/name suggestions, I won't say until the baby's born. Also, another time skip.

Do not own Hetalia.

* * *

"Papa, I need help reaching my back."

Francis had taken to helping Matthew bathe in the later months of his pregnancy. The boy couldn't reach certain parts of himself, so he needed a little extra assistance.

"There you go, Mathieu," The Frenchman said as he ran a sponge over his child's skin. Matthew himself leaned over as far as he could, given his now very large stomach.

In fact, sometimes Francis teased him about it. He said things about how big the baby was going to be, and if the maple child was sure he wasn't carrying twins.

Matthew knew, though, that it was all in good fun. The baby was due in about a month, and he needed a little cheering up before the time came.

Right now, he was listening to his papa rattle on about how much of a fuss Arthur had made when he finally got his money. He had heard this before, but he didn't really have the sense to speak up.

"I swear, he was yelling his head off the minute I walked in. It was all 'bloody' this and 'bollocks' that. I tell you, Mathieu, I was so close to slapping him in the mouth to get him to be quiet."

"I know, Papa. I know."

...

Later that day, Matthew was laying in bed, trying to at least get a nap in. Francis had left to go somewhere. He didn't say where. He only said it was a surprise for Matthew and the baby.

The maple child had really wanted to go, but Francis had said it probably wasn't a good idea to do so, anyway. So here he was, laying down and wondering what Kumajiro was getting into.

"Maybe I'm restless. I guess I should move around," Matthew thought out loud to himself. Pushing the blanket off, he slowly made his way out of bed and wandered out into the hall. Looking downstairs, he saw Francis wasn't back yet.

As he made his way to the kitchen, he saw Kumajiro poking his head into the pantry. Apparently, the bear was either hungry, or it just smelled something really good in there.

Matthew was about to scold his furry little friend for sniffing around, when he saw all the dirty dishes in the sink. He knew the two of them were starting to slack off on them, but he didn't think it was getting that bad.

When he approached them, he made sure he had gloves on, since he didn't want his hands to get wrinkled, and got to work.

His father had been helping him a lot these last few months. Maybe now he should try helping a little.

...

"Now let's see...what shades of blue and pink would work best..." Francis was having a bit of a problem picking out the right paint color.

Lately, the Frenchman had been thinking of using the spare room he had. He just needed to get the right things to do what he wanted. He even kept Matthew out of the room, so he didn't see what was happening.

The boy didn't need more stress on him now, not when the baby was so close to being here. He figured maybe if the nursery had to be done, he could do it himself.

After some consideration, he finally picked out his colors. They didn't know what Matthew was having, so it was best to prepare for either. Satisfied with it, he made his way to the register and got in line.

...

Matthew was amazed at how much time it took for plates to get cleaned. He really wished Francis would buy a dishwasher already.

It was only a minor inconvenience, though. As he worked, he hummed his national anthem and looked over at Kumajiro once in a while. Before he knew it, half of them were done already.

Smiling at this realization, the maple child continued. He was so focused on his job, he almost didn't hear the door open. Thinking it was Francis, he simply continued.

The person didn't say anything when they came in. No 'I'm back, Mathieu' or anything like that. Maybe the Frenchman was trying to sneak in, and didn't want Matthew to see what he had with him.

It was when they didn't go upstairs that he started to get worried. He found it increasingly hard to not turn around and look. For a little while, the footsteps stopped, and nothing could be heard.

Then, Matthew heard the person speak, and the words he said chilled his blood.

"I found you, da."

* * *

Look at that. A cliffhanger. I'm so mean.

Anyway, the poll should be up now, so go check it out. I really need to get back into the loop of things. My writing ability has suffered after six months.

-lyudesshadow


	10. similitudes

Well. Since I appear to be having writer's block or something, this chapter will likely not be very good. Oh, well.

Also, I apologize for any OOC in this chapter.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.

* * *

Matthew couldn't believe it. He wanted to think that this was simply a very bad dream happening right now.

But it wasn't. Ivan Braginski was standing right in front of him. The very man he had been trying to escape from.

"Mattie, it has been too long, da?" Ivan seemed to disregard the fact that the boy was shivering like crazy. "You know how hard it was to find you? You never leave me a note, a message, nothing. That makes me sad, da."

The maple child tried moving back away from the Russian, but whenever he did, Ivan simply followed him.

"I-I...I thought you forgot about me, Ivan." Hoping the big man wasn't going to hurt him, Matthew put a hand on his big belly. He could feel his little one moving around, almost restlessly.

"You would think so, but...nyet. I couldn't possibly forget about you." For once, the boy wished he _had _been forgotten. Then again, sometimes fate had other plans. He continued moving back until he could feel the wall behind him. The already prominent fear became more intense when that big nose was right in front of him, and Matthew gasped when he felt two big hands on his stomach.

"Uhu~? What is this?" Ivan felt the huge bump, possibly amused by the fact that this boy was carrying his child. "I didn't know. You could have told me, da." Matthew couldn't have been able to do that.

"Please, Ivan...stop!" Those hands traveled upward, finally resting above his chest. Then, with a sudden movement, Matthew felt his neck being constricted. Ivan's forced politeness was now gone, with nothing but anger in his eyes.

"Nobody leaves me. Not even you, Mattie. I don't care if you are carrying my child. You still do not leave me, da?" The maple child could almost hear the bones in his neck snapping. As he gasped for air, his vision began to darken.

_This is it, _Matthew thought. _I'm going to die, and my Papa's not here to save me. **Pardonnez-moi**_, _Papa. I couldn't..._

...

...

..._  
_

...But just as he was about to black out, Matthew heard a voice. It wasn't Francis, but it was a slightly familiar one. He saw the person burst the doorway, with a panicked look on his face.

"Ivan! Ivan, stop!" The young man hurried over to them. "Let him go!"

"Hm? Toris? What are you doing here? This does not concern you, da." Even so, Matthew could feel the pressure being relieved. As the Russian turned, the boy fell to the ground, gasping for air.

"Ivan, please! I'll do anything! Just don't kill him!" The maple child watched as his life was being pleaded for by someone he barely knew. Why exactly, he didn't know, but the cries for mercy appeared to have been heard.

"All right, Toris. I will go back, but do not be too long, da?" With that, Ivan made his way to the door, but not before shooting one last glance at Matthew. After he left, Toris helped the boy up to his feet. Little Mattie was still a bit shaky, holding his stomach as he was dusted off.

"I guess I got here just in time, huh?" When Toris' hands got to his stomach, he stopped. "To think, all this time..." Matthew was confused at what he was saying.

"What... You and I... I don't understand." The brown-haired man looked back up, possibly knowing what he meant.

"I guess you could say...you and I have a sort of connection." What did he mean by that...?

Matthew looked down, and saw his answer. It wasn't as prominent as his, but it was there. Toris had his very own baby bump. So he was carrying Russia's child, too!

"Looks like your baby's going to have a half-sibling." The maple child giggled and nodded a little at this, seemingly forgetting that his life was in mortal danger just a little while ago.

...

Francis was, admittedly, frightened at the fact his door was wide open. It could have meant anything. Burglars, house crashers, _**Russia...**_

"Mathieu!" Running in, he saw the house was surprisingly not askew, everything was in its place...but no Matthew. When the Frenchman looked in the living room, he saw the bear sitting on the couch, looking at him with its usual face.

"Upstairs," was all the furry animal said. With a simple nod, Francis dashed upstairs, flinging open the door to his child's room, expecting the worst.

But of course, was he saw was not what he was expecting at all. First off, Matthew was perfectly fine, sitting on his bed. Second, someone was there, but not Russia.

"Papa!" Matthew said when he saw Francis come in. The boy was looked over by the worried father.

"Oh, _Mon dieu, _thank goodness you're all right. I was afraid you were in danger. You should have called me, and I would have come right over." It was here Matthew looked down from his father's eyes, with the man next to him taking his hand.

"I...I was, Papa." The maple child heard a sort of choking noise from Francis before explaining. "He...he found me, and he almost killed me." Matthew was then interrupted by a pair of arms encircling him, followed by a flurry of French words.

"But he's all right now, Mister Bonnefoy," Toris spoke up, combing his fingers through the Canadian's hair. Francis looked over at this unfamiliar face.

"And who might you be?" The Frenchman said, slowly putting his hands on his hips.

"He helped me, Papa. If it weren't for him..." The brown-haired man stopped him from talking, putting a hand up.

"I only did what I had to do. I didn't want you to die by him." Toris began rubbing Matthew's baby bump, as well as touching his own, before getting up to go. "And I think I've left him waiting for long enough."

Matthew looked up at him. "Oh... Be careful, then."

Toris, as if sensing his uneasiness, gave him a reassuring smile. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine." Matthew, still not convinced, got up and held him for a little bit. After a few parting words, Toris finally left.

As Matthew watched him go, he still couldn't help but fear for him and his baby. Ivan did have that capability of causing the both of them serious harm. Hopefully, though, it wouldn't come to that.

But who knew, really. In the end, however, Matthew hoped Toris' baby, crazy father or not, would be healthy. Hopefully, fate would be kind enough to allow that.

* * *

Stupid plot idea, I know. But I couldn't think of anything else. Life's been kicking me in the butt lately.

Well...you know the drill.

-lyudesshadow


	11. Début et fin

Well, it's getting close. How's it feel, eh?

Disclaimer: *insert typical line of not owning Hetalia here*

* * *

Matthew recalled it happening early in the morning. Francis had to go out for a little bit, so he was alone in the house with Kumajiro.

"I didn't think he'd ever leave. He's been so worried ever since that whole thing happened with Ivan," the maple child said as the polar bear climbed onto a chair. Kumajiro seemed to be staring intently at Matthew's stomach for some reason. It was like he was trying to use mind powers to get it out of there.

The boy paid him no mind, though, and set his mind on cleaning the table, even though he likely should not have been doing so. He was near due, and he had to be careful.

He was about halfway done, when he felt pain in his lower back. He thought nothing of it, and resumed. It was when it happened again that he grew concerned. Feeling the pain extend, Matthew sat down and looked at the polar bear.

"Kumajiro, you know where my phone is, right? On my nightstand? Go get it, please." The little bear jumped off the chair and went off in search of the device. When he came back, Matthew grabbed his phone and dialed Francis.

...

Francis was in dire need of milk and maple syrup again. Exactly what compelled Matthew to mix them together and actually drink that concoction was beyond him. But he did, so it had to have some appeal to the boy.

Standing in the aisle, and lamenting how many types of milk there were, Francis was greeted with a familiar voice.

"Mister Bonnefoy? Is that you?" The Frenchman turned around to see Toris, baby bump and all.

"Ah! _Bonjour! _You're the one that helped Mathieu the other day?" Toris nodded, rubbing his swollen belly.

"I was able to get out of Ivan's house for a while, and I just thought I'd come here for groceries. I was surprised to see you here." The Lithuanian looked around him. "Where's Matthew?"

"Ah. He is at home," Francis said as he picked out his milk.

"Oh, that's too bad. I was hoping to get to talk to him." Toris stopped when he looked down at his stomach. Apparently, his child was kicking. "Sorry. I guess we're a little restless today."

The two exchanged in small talk for a little while, before the Frenchman's phone began ringing. He flipped it open, and saw it was from Matthew.

"_Oui? _Is there something you need, Mathieu?" Francis nodded, and said the occasional "Uh-huh," before Toris noticed his face go white. Whatever was going on couldn't be good.

Francis turned off the phone, then turned to him. "I have to go home, and quick! Mathieu needs me!" He dropped everything and brushed past Toris, with the other man following close behind.

...

Matthew had really no other method to calm himself down, so he had resorted to petting Kumajiro over and over. The pain wouldn't go away, rather it kept getting worse.

"Oh...I can't take this anymore, Kumachacha." Even in the throes of labor, he still forgot the damn polar bear's name. He hoped he didn't have to deal with this much longer. "I hope he gets here soon."

Indeed, as soon as he spoke those words, Francis flew through the doorway, with Toris right behind him.

"Mathieu! Mathieu, are you all right?" He was as all right as he could be, given his baby wanted to be born soon.

"P-papa...Toris...Get me to the hospital, please?" His legs wobbled as he struggled to his feet. The boy stumbled over to the Frenchman, falling into his arms.

"Toris," Francis turned to the brown-haired man, "Go wait in the car. Mathieu and I will be right out." Toris complied, going right back out.

Matthew followed Francis upstairs to get what they needed. As soon as the two were packed, Francis led his child out to the car, with Toris waiting in the back. Finally, the big day was here.

...

As soon as everyone got there, Francis made sure Matthew got a room as soon as possible. Toris waited outside, as he wasn't family. He watched as Francis came back out, decked in full medical scrubs.

"Toris, this may take a while. Do you think you can go out into the waiting room until later?" The Frenchman said as he put on his face mask. Toris nodded. Getting up with some effort, he waddled back out, with Francis watching.

"_Papa!" _Francis perked back up and got back by Matthew's side. The boy was already prepped for surgery. All that was left was for it all to be over and done with.

...

In the operating room, Francis watched as the doctors worked, held his child's hand. Matthew was, at this point, completely out from painkillers.

The sights and smells were becoming too much for the Frenchman. He almost couldn't handle everything at once. The whole thing intensified when he saw them reaching into Matthew.

He could see blood. His grip tightened, then loosened, with Francis finally collapsing to the floor. The very last thing he heard before blacking out was the cry of a newborn.

...

When Francis came to, he found himself laying down on a cot, in a completely different room. He looked around and saw the doctor, holding a little bundle.

"Well, little one, it seems your grandfather woke up. I think he wants to meet you." Francis watched as said little bundle was handed to him. He took a hold of his new grandchild, taking care he didn't drop his new family member.

A pink blanket. Matthew had a baby girl. Francis did always want a little girl to spoil, after Matthew grew up and moved out.

As soon as the doctor left, the Frenchman began cooing and whispering baby talk in French.

"_Sacre bleu_, you are simply beautiful, little one." He smiled, looking at the little wrinkled face, whose eyes had not yet opened. "I promise, I will take good care of you. You can count on that."

He was alone with his newborn granddaughter, before a knock at the door snapped him out of his thoughts. The doctor had returned, looking rather solemn.

"Mister Bonnefoy?" The man said in a flat, yet apologetic tone. "I'm afraid I have some bad news about your son..."

...

Matthew had never woken up. The news hit Francis like a car hitting a brick wall. This day, which was meant to be a happy one, was now tinged with a bittersweet and tragic feeling.

The new grandpa looked at the little girl in his arms. It pained him to know that she would grow up without either of her parents. She had just entered the world, and already she was effectively an orphan.

The Frenchman held her closer, tears running down his cheeks. He tried to sing to her in French, but the words came out broken and punctuated with sobs.

"Mister Bonnefoy?" Francis looked up and saw Toris. By the look on his face, he heard the news about Matthew. "I...I'm sorry to hear about what happened."

The elder man shook his head. "_Non_, don't be sorry. It wasn't your fault. It just...I can't believe it even happened at all." The two sat in silence, before Francis spoke up again.

"Toris. I know this will be a great risk for you, but..." The Lithuanian nodded, showing he was listening. "Do you think perhaps you can...move out of Ivan's house? There is...something I want to happen."

Toris nodded. "I'll do my best to do that, sir. Just tell me what I need to do."

* * *

Yes, everyone. You waited several months for that. I apologize greatly.

And yes, there will be an epilogue. It will be up soon.

-Emerald-Shadow-Knight


	12. toujours

Here you are. Here is your epilogue.

Do not own Hetalia.

* * *

It had been about six years since Matthew died. Francis had taken on the responsibility of raising little Lorraine since. His granddaughter had become a sweet, rosy-cheeked darling, staying kind and lovable even though her grandpa spoiled her something crazy.

Some people had thought it amazing that the Frenchman had been doing so well, raising her by himself. But that was the thing. He wasn't raising her alone. He had a little help.

"Francis, is Lorraine ready to go? I got Jurgis all up and cleaned." Francis looked up from fitting shoes onto Lorraine as Toris walked in, with a little boy tagging along behind him.

"Almost. I just need to get her backpack on." Grabbing her new bag and putting it on for her, Francis smiled as she hopped to her feet. "Are you ready for your first day of school, _petit_?"

"_Oui, grand-père_!" Lorraine ran over to Jurgis, who hid behind his father's legs. Toris looked over and chuckled.

"What about you, Jurgis? Are you ready for your first day of school?" The little boy looked out from his hiding place, before slowly nodding. "Now don't worry. Lorraine will help you get through today, all right?"

This finally got Jurgis to come out, taking his place next to Lorraine and taking her hand. Lorraine giggled, then pulled him along out to the bus stop. Francis and Toris followed close behind.

The four of them waited until the big yellow bus came. As soon as the doors opened, Lorraine tugged Jurgis on, chattering about how they could sit next to each other in a seat.

The doors then closed, and the bus whisked them away to their first day of school. Both children waved at their father and grandfather until they were out of sight.

Francis and Toris stood there for a while, before heading back into the house. Both men were now alone in the living room, with the Frenchman focused on a single item.

"You know," the Lithuanian said, "I bet Matthew would be really happy to see her go to school. Heck, I'd bet he'd want to be here right now, watching her grow up, right?"

The Frenchman nodded. "_Oui._" He picked up an urn off of the fireplace, holding it close. "And in a way, he's still here."

Toris looked at the urn, knowing full well it contained the Canadian's ashes. "I know, and he's also in Heaven right now, watching over us, right?" Francis simply nodded.

The two of them could've sworn that at that very moment, Matthew was watching them, smiling. He would've been so proud of his papa, for not going back on his promise to take care of her.

For now, though the maple child was gone, Toris and Francis knew one thing.

No matter what happened, they were going to be all right.

* * *

I finally finished this story! Remember to tune in for my next story!

-Emerald-Shadow-Knight


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